<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Loot Haul by Half_PintGladiator</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27779230">Loot Haul</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_PintGladiator/pseuds/Half_PintGladiator'>Half_PintGladiator</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Borderlands (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Fight Club References, Gen, Introspection, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, One Shot Collection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:22:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27779230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_PintGladiator/pseuds/Half_PintGladiator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Borderlands oneshots. Variation of content, flavor. Contains smut.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>moze/athena</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Saturday Night's Alright for Fightin'</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was part of my yearly request from a dear friend. </p><p>I have no idea why but the idea of Moze having such an extreme kink to the point of turning off two different girlfriends is extremely funny to me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was always a buzz at Moxxi’s place, always a rumor about going-ons for the keen eavesdropper, and sometimes for the not so keen. Moze usually paid no mind to the chatter, the scuttlebutt or whatever it could be called, but there was something tempting about the concept of a fight club run by Madame Moxxi herself. A club for heavy hitters, bruisers aching to work out their frustrations by punching the living shit out of each other. The angst had to go somewhere, needed catharsis and relief.<br/>
Which probably led to why she was sitting with Brick at the bar listening to the old bruiser ramble about his glory days as the Slab King. The muscle bound lug was on a tangent about the Holodrome; Moxxi’s old fighting ring, recalling fights against hordes of whatever she could round up for slaughter. She figured if she let him rumble on long enough the fight club would come out; if her patience didn’t wear out first.<br/>
“And those were the good days. Not that things ain’t good now, but those were the best. Lots of guys to bash their brains in, and less of these drooling idiots screamin’ about gods. Kinda missing the ring now that I think of it. Mordy and Tina keep remindin’ me that I’m not getting any younger and shouldn’t be going out bustin’ heads any more. Me not bust heads?” His scarred lips twisted into a grimace.<br/>
She had heard about his attempts at gardening and had to fight back her own scowl. She tried flashing him an encouraging smile.<br/>
“Well, isn’t there a place where you could fight and y’know, not get yourself killed?”<br/>
“Eh, there’s the Heavy Hitters, but, Moxxi asked me not to go back on account of me smashing holes in the wall.”<br/>
Paydirt. “What about the Heavy Hitters, Brick?”<br/>
“Some little rinkydink fight club Moxxi’s got goin’. Not so much for bloodshed, so it’s bo-ring. But I guess it’s nice that we’re not allowed to use weapons.”<br/>
“How’d you get into a place like that?”<br/>
His beady black eyes darted over her face, narrowing for only a moment before a grin lit up his visage.<br/>
“You’re gonna need a key card, but you can have mine, seein’ as Moxxi doesn’t want me breaking shit no more.”<br/>
One of his huge hands reached into his vest pocket, rummaging. She watched a chunk of Eridium fall to the floor, a bottle cap, a set of brass knuckles nearly as big as her head clanked on the grated floor. Brick frowned as he switched pockets. Moze inched away when he set a grenade on the bar’s counter. Luckily, Moxxi was out and in her stead a service ‘bot manned the bar’s counter. She felt bad, at least for a passing moment when she considered that she was duping the poor guy. She didn’t want to go for the sake of fighting, oh no, she didn’t care if she hit someone or not.<br/>
The problem was that she got off on getting her ass kicked. It was fine at first, just starting with bitch slapping and the usual spanking. And then it became an obsession. Enough so that Amara left her, afraid of what damage she would cause. Ember had likewise backed off, the relationship cooling off to an occasional buck and fuck. However, that was simply not enough. She needed a woman to beat the ever loving piss out of her, maybe to the point of having her holed up in Tannis’ clinic for a day or two.<br/>
At long last Brick slapped a piece of plastic on the counter between them. He beamed at her in the way a teacher grins at their prized student. The swift smack on the back he gave her knocked the wind from her lungs. If it had been anyone else, she probably would have excused herself-- but he just didn’t do it for her. She coughed, trying to grin back at him.<br/>
“Knew you had it in ya! You could be a Slab, yet!”<br/>
Moze downed her beer, his treat. “Yeah, hopin’ to prove you right on that one, big guy.”<br/>
She fingered the card, feeling the slight tingle of anticipation building in her gut. Mercenary Day had come early and she was pretty sure she had made the naughty list. </p><p>--<br/>
Moze took a deep breath as she stepped into the cargo hold. She popped the collar of her faded denim jacket, feeling utterly naked without her usual gear. The echo of her footfalls in the wide space felt too loud, too conspicuous. And that was despite the hold being empty. She fumbled in her jacket’s pocket, feeling around for the reassuring coolness of the plastic card. Her fingers closed on it. It was a talisman of sorts, a boon. She just hoped that the coding Tannis had done on it worked. Sure, she could have gone to Balex, but she wasn’t sure that the bear wouldn’t have run his mouth. She decided to trust Tanni’s work even though it meant she still could recall the baleful look on the xenoarchaeologist’s face.<br/>
She paused at the bottom of the stairs, pulling a creased scrap of paper out of her pocket. In Brick’s large and childlike writing were the directions to enter the makeshift fighting ring. Behind a stack of tires. Plug in card. Punch everything. Yep, definitely Brick’s advice. The stack of tires wasn’t too hard to find. She made a beeline for it, pulse pounding. Cohesive thoughts had long since abandoned her, having been casually tossed aside as she slipped out of her room. She keyed up, on edge, waiting for a fix, that stupid little itch she couldn’t quite satisfy on her own. </p><p>--<br/>
The heavy steel door banged shut behind her. For a second her heart leapt into her throat, all instincts flaring into overdrive. She steadied herself by looking around the room. Locker banks from wall to wall, with a door in the center of the far wall. Her gaze swept over the lockers only to notice that none were truly bolted down. One leaned drunkenly against a corner. An aisle up from her there was noise.<br/>
“Make a big enough entrance?” The voice was slightly muffled, but definitely familiar.<br/>
Moze felt foolish as she crept around the first locker bank. A flush crept up her neck when she spied Maya halfway down the aisle, straddling a bench. The siren looked up at her, puzzled at first and then grinning as she wrapped her wrists with tape.<br/>
“Heyyy, I didn’t know you were joining us. Good to see you!”<br/>
She flashed her a wry grin. Butterflies were already flitting through her stomach, made worse by the snug muscle shirt that showed off the lean muscle of Maya’s arms.<br/>
“Ditto, Maya. Who all is ‘us’?”<br/>
Maya wound the roll of tape up her palm, securing wide strips along her thumb and knuckles.<br/>
“Me, Amara, Athena, and you.”<br/>
Moze had to look away as she spun the roll along her fingers, her motions had blurred from the practiced speed. Nagging warmth was already blooming through her, the little incessant voice in her head telling her just being this close to it was enough.<br/>
“Huh. Who’s this Athena person?”<br/>
Maya tossed her the tape, stifling a chuckle when she fumbled the catch and the roll bounced across the diamond plate floor. The siren gestured for her to take off her coat.<br/>
“Let me help. You sure you’re good for this? You, uh, look a little out of practice.”<br/>
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Haven’t done enough hand-to-hand, kinda been more,” she mimicked shooting off an assault rifle. “Shooty and stabby. But back to my question.”<br/>
Maya seized her wrist and started winding tape around her left hand. “Hm, well, she’s intense, if that’s any way to describe a person. Ex-Atlas, and not the Rhys Atlas. I guess in a way--”<br/>
“We’re both hardass soldiers, right?”<br/>
“Her more than you, but yeah. Hits like a brick wall too. Lot of anger issues, if you ask me. But anyway, that’s not why we’re here. You get too beat up, I’ll patch you up so we don’t have to drag your ass to Tannis. Not that I mind, but, it’s getting awkward.”<br/>
“Oh yeah, she likes you, doesn’t she?”<br/>
Moze yelped when Maya tugged hard at the tape, pulling up a small patch of arm hair with her motion. The siren fixed her with a pointed look, silver eyes momentarily flashing. She started on the other hand, the threat lingering with each pass of the tape.<br/>
“Got your point, shit, Maya.”<br/>
“Glad to hear it. But yeah, it’s just us tonight. Moxxi’s gonna show up later just to make sure we’re not breaching the hull. Kinda surprised Lil isn’t here, but eh, guess she’s got too much on her mind to throw punches.”<br/>
Moze shrugged, testing her fingers. They were a tad stiff, but the binding felt good. Maya seemed pleased with her work, giving a tight little nod.<br/>
“Thanks.”<br/>
“Don’t mention it. Try not to get too much shit kicked out of you, huh?”<br/>
They grinned at each other like old friends in on a joke; it was something she had come to love about Maya. The siren gave her a little wave as she rose from the bench.<br/>
“Catch ya in there.”<br/>
She listened to Maya’s receding footfalls. She waited for a moment before rising to do some half-assed stretches that she could only just recall. Something something basic training, good to do before exercises, good for morale, blah, blah.<br/>
<i> Athena, huh? Well this just got more interesting.</i><br/>
She gave herself one more minute to get herself under control. It wouldn’t do if let herself get beaten to a pulp because she had gotten over-excited. If she could avoid getting in the ring with Amara, she was set. Maya probably wouldn’t care, while Athena, well, she was a wildcard. At worst, she would leave with a few memories of cut women wearing workout gear and a few bruises. A total win for her.<br/>
--<br/>
Moze stepped into the backroom, eyeing the ring that had been made using old barbed wire and spikes stolen out of a construction site on Promethea. The scent of sweat pervaded the air. She tried not to think about the throbbing below her belt, made worse when she spotted the two fighters in the ring. Amara was down to a sports bra and a pair of sweatpants, swinging at a woman half a head shorter than her, but just as built. The shorter woman was lightning fast, quicker than one would expect of her muscular build. And by the looks of it, she was winning.<br/>
Maya caught her eye, beckoning for her to join her on the other side of the ring.<br/>
“We try not to have two fights going at once, just in case someone ends up needing me to heal ‘em.”<br/>
“I’m guessing the blue haired chick built like a fuckin’ tank is Athena?”<br/>
“Yep.”<br/>
“No siren powers allowed?”<br/>
“If you aren’t actively patching someone up, no.”<br/>
“Fuck, then she must be pretty fucking strong.”<br/>
Maya grinned. “Just, uh, try not to get your head caught between her thighs, okay? I definitely heard something crack the last time she did that- and I really don’t wanna try to unmelt the puddle that would be your brain.”<br/>
Moze caught exactly one percent of that warning, and it wasn’t anything important. All she knew was the instant the warning was issued, her eyes shot to the smaller fighter’s thighs, only just visible in her loose track pants.<br/>
<i>Guess I'm dyin’ tonight. </i><br/>
Heels clicked on the metal floor. Maya turned first, tilting her head in a brief nod. Moze had to tear her eyes away from the fight to look at Moxxi.<br/>
“Moze.”<br/>
“Heya, Moxxi.”<br/>
"Try not to get yourself killed, huh, sugar?”<br/>
“I can handle myself.”<br/>
Those crimson painted lips said no. She grinned anyway.<br/>
“Hey Mox, what’s the story with her?” She pointed her thumb to where Athena had Amara in a stranglehold.<br/>
The pair wheeled across the ring until Amara’s back smashed against one of the stanchions. Moxxi’s lips twitched into what she could only describe as a strained smile.<br/>
“We go way back. Good person to have your back, but that kitty has got some serious claws. Not officially a Raider, if you’re askin’. Not sure if she’s still married either, come to think of it.”<br/>
Moxxi gave an effortless shrug, her eyes drawn back to the chaos in the ring. She lifted a megaphone that Moze hadn’t noticed to her lips.<br/>
“Alright, ladies, I think it’s about time we break this up-- I’m not havin’ either of you kill each other on my watch.”<br/>
Amara groaned, her head sinking back to the floor. She listlessly flapped her arm in defeat. Athena rose, offering her hand to her opponent, face an unreadable mask.<br/>
“Acha, I can’t understand how you keep kicking my ass!”<br/>
“You’re too predictable. Stop showboating and actually fight me, siren.”<br/>
Amara’s nostrils flared as she huffed. Moze caught her eye, flinching when Amara’s eyebrows rose. Her ex shrugged it off, limping her way over to the bench where Maya was already preparing to patch her up. Moze felt someone staring at her. She lifted her head, only to lock eyes with Athena. Her sharp cobalt blue eyes stood out against the background of her indigo hair. The combatant crossed the ring, casually leaning on the wire siding as though the barbs of metal weren’t cutting into her thick forearms.<br/>
“You’re new.”<br/>
“Just started today.”<br/>
“Military too? Let me guess, Dahl?”<br/>
“Vladof, actually. Heard you’re ex-Atlas before Strongfork neutered it.”<br/>
Athena barked a harsh laugh, smirking at her.<br/>
“That’s one word for it, yeah. I’m Athena.” She extended a hand.<br/>
Moze ignored the blood crusting the bandages tightly round Athena's knuckles and took her hand, giving it the firmest pump she could manage. She wasn’t sure if she had ever been that intimidated and turned on by a woman shorter than her before.<br/>
“Moserah, but everybody calls me Moze. So are we gonna sit around yapping or are we gonna fight?”<br/>
There was a spark in those shockingly blue eyes that she wasn’t sure she liked, but her libido seemed to approve of. Somewhere behind her, Amara groaned.<br/>
“Brave, huh? Let’s see how long it takes to break that out of you.” Athena cocked her head to the center of the ring, devilish smirk twisting her full lips. <i>Remember, Moze, don’t just let her wail on you. You gotta fight back. Just, try not to like, break her nose or anything. </i><br/>
Finding a spot where the barbs had been clipped, she braced herself. It took a moment to step over the wire without tripping, reminding her just how out of shape she had gotten since she left Vladof. Nervous excitement had her nerves tingling. Her breath was caught up in her chest like she had sprinted instead of clambered over the wire bounds. Athena watched her with what she assumed was an amused smirk.<br/>
Behind her Amara murmured ‘she’s dead meat’. Maya chuckled. Moxxi just looked as though she was in need of a strong drink-- or if she was busily calculating the cost of having the blood mopped off of the floor.<br/>
“You talked big game, now’s the time to prove it.”<br/>
Athena stepped to the center of the ring, sweeping her hand over the concrete floor. Moze’s fist curled. Zane had told her something about fistfights-- but she sure as hell couldn’t remember the geezer’s advice, especially not staring down the tiny gladiator. The megaphone squealed to life, eliciting an amplified curse from Moxxi. Whatever she said, Moze didn’t hear it as she lunged to make the first strike.<br/>
Athena sidestepped her blow with ease, bringing her elbow down with wicked precision. Moze wobbled, legs nearly driven out from under her by the force of the blow to her back. She twisted, swinging out her right arm in an awkward strike that made contact in a glancing blow. It was like punching a solid bag of flour. She took a few steps forward, swearing when her legs were swiped out from under her. She hit the concrete with a thud that drove the air from her lungs and made her head spin.<br/>
Moze rolled to her left, huffing with relief when Athena’s boot hit the floor next to her torso. Letting instinct drive her, she twisted the other way, wrapping her hands around Athena’s thick calf. She dug her nails into the thin fabric of her track pants, seeking the flesh beneath. Athena drove her foot into her side. Stars danced behind Moze’s eyes. She released one hand, slashing out with the side of her fist and finding Athena’s knee. She drove the blow with all her might, hearing a faint pop and a curse as Athena’s leg buckled. Moze let go of her leg, rolling forward until she was on her feet.<br/>
The hot rush of arousal flooded her, staggering her as she lifted her arm to strike. It wasn’t as hard a blow as she intended, bouncing off the rippling muscles. Moze swore bitterly as a fist caught her in the jaw. Her mind was no longer on the fight-- how could it be when she watched the wall of muscle come at her?<br/>
She had fought back at least at first. The second time she was pinned, her attacks were feeble, misdirected. Athena’s boot pressed down on her breastbone, driving her to a gasping, shuddering breath. She had to bite her lip to stifle a moan.<br/>
“Athena, that’s enough. Don’t go killing the kid.”<br/>
Moze groaned. Everything hurt and she could feel the subtle blossom of bruises as well as the telltale crackle of cracked ribs. That did nothing to dull the excruciating throbbing of need.<br/>
“I would say good fight, but I feel you got in over your head.”<br/>
“Was not expecting that.” Her voice was husky enough for her to notice. Hot blood flooded the tips of her ears.<br/>
If Athena noticed she didn’t say a word. Maya had rushed over to the ring’s edge, extending a hand. Moze batted it away, giving her a nod as she climbed her way over the barbed wire.<br/>
“Are you--”<br/>
“Yeah, give me a sec to go and get some air, okay?”<br/>
She didn’t hear a word any of them said as she retreated to the locker room, rushing as quickly as her wobbly legs would carry her to a corner far out of sight.<br/>
--<br/>
Moze’s legs gave out from under her. She swore as she fought with the button of her cargo pants, trembling fingers struggling to function. Several botched attempts later, she managed to undo the fastener. Next time she was going to wear an elastic waistband. She didn’t bother to pull her pants down, jamming her hand into the space made by popping the fly. She chewed her lip, hoping and praying she wasn’t so loud that the others heard her.<br/>
“Fuck,” she breathed.<br/>
Moze couldn’t quite remember the last time she had been that wet-- easily not since Ember and god knew how long ago that had been. Weeks? Months? She didn’t know, nor did she care. Even with bandaged fingers it felt good. Her forearm started to burn from the speed of her fingers working herself over.<br/>
A throat was cleared. Her blood ran cold. She risked a glance at her observer, wanting to find somewhere to crawl away to. Athena wore a small smirk, one eyebrow lifted.<br/>
“I had a feeling that’s why you were here.”<br/>
Moze swallowed, throat tightening when Athena leaned over her. Those hard blue eyes betrayed nothing. She felt like a rabbit in a trap staring down a hungry fox. Her heart was fit to leap out of her chest, ready to burst at first touch of Athena’s hand. Even with bandages on, she knew Athena’s hands would be rough with callouses. One hand slipped down her pants, the other wrapped around her throat, pressing hard.<br/>
“Not. A. Word.” Athena hissed.<br/>
Moze shook her head, eyes wide, body screaming for release. Athena was rough, her touch firm; aggressive. She knew well enough she would be limping after this encounter. She swore as Athena picked up speed. Only on the verge of breaking under the gladiator’s hand did she see something change in those blue eyes. A fierce kiss swallowed her moans. Athena kept rubbing until her legs spasmed. She gasped for air the instant she was released from the tight grip.<br/>
“Hope that doesn’t scare you off.”<br/>
Moze watched her walk away in a daze, still caught in the afterglow. Her breathing was harsh, her legs still trembled. And she knew she was hooked.<br/>
<i>Fuck. And this is the hill I die on, I guess.</i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Phoenix</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Something short that I once aspired to make longer. I have long since given up.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Looking back on her life, she never really did make the right choices. She always seemed to get in over her head, which probably explained a lot about who she was. But standing there watching as Elpis crept closer and closer to Pandora’s surface she knew what choice she had to make. </p><p>Power had flooded her veins as the last breath slipped from Tyreen’s lungs. The familiar warmth of her tattoos had returned to her. She felt alive again, perhaps, alive for the first time in a long time. She heard herself speak, however the words seemed like they were coming from a million miles away; the million miles she already pictured herself crossing to save the planet.</p><p>Her phasewings were aflame. She was serenity, she was grace. She was divine fury on a collision course to right the wrongs sowed against Sanctuary, against Pandora. Lilith didn’t believe in fate or destiny. This, this was just the right choice at the right time. </p><p>She had come a long way from being the bullied tattooed kid that longed to be normal. She no longer hated her powers. She had her taste of life without the siren’s song of power buzzing her in her veins.</p><p>The Firehawk burned like a phoenix against the night sky. And like the legend, she made a promise to return in some form or another.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Something in the Way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by the mood of Avatar's Something in the Way. </p><p>I had fun writing as Krieg's inner voice, feeling that he's more of a character I should play with writing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I still hear a voice in my head. It’s not the resounding, all-consuming screams of my madness, nor is it the softer voice of my hope. It’s familiar and sweet, nothing that I have ever made with my own vocal chords. All that she ever tells me is that she is sorry. I don’t know who would ever apologize to me. I am the meat man, the monster, the one that is unhinged. </p><p>And yet, there is a tiny voice apologizing to me for what I have become. </p><p>We don’t remember much of how we came to be, much of it lost by our own depravity. I watched my happy memories, my own life slip through my fingers like grains of sand through an hourglass. All I ever hear is his shouting, his screams, though now he has quieted, relinquishing control to me more often. This is the closest thing to peace we have, or will ever have. </p><p>Our Echo is full of old messages, from comrades, friends. Funny how he used to think they hated us. Every now and then we play a few of those messages, listening to the world outside of us. The scientist, Tannis, tells us of how many we have lost. It’s hard to get him to fathom loss; he’s like a child and is certain that if he waits long enough they will return. He doesn’t understand that our savior is gone-- and that it wasn’t her who fixed us. To him, she is an eternal goddess. It’s not her voice that whispers apologies to me, this one comes from the before. When it was just me.</p><p>If I racked my brain enough, I think I could remember her. At least until we shuffled through our Echo, blindly searching for messages from Her, the goddess. Anything to hold onto her voice. We went too far back, finding things from our vault hunting days; the good old days, if we had any. A message stood out to me and for some reason, he relented. All caps like a scream of wrath against god. Short and to the point. The assassin who watched our back, the only person outside of our little gang that ever did. </p><p>The problem was that I don’t remember a Sammy. Too many faces gone and blurred together through a haze of rage. Psychos don’t watch out for one another, not for long anyway. It’s a dog eat dog world on Pandora but who’s to say the mad can’t learn a new trick. She must’ve meant something to me. Must’ve been part of my life somehow. All that comes to mind after seeing that name is a needle, huge and shining with purple sludge. A lab coat. A woman’s screams and pleading. </p><p>Probably another victim like me. But I guess in a way it helps me sleep at night; knowing that I’m not alone with this curse. And maybe because someone out there feels sorrow for me and what I have become. What we’ve become, really. I hope I find her one day. She’s not his shining goddess, but a lifeline will do. Sure as hell beats being alone with myself-- and him.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>